


The Dominance Pact

by BipolarMolar



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: Anal Sex, Bralker, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Fight Sex, Fights, Fingerfucking, Frottage, I love Walker, Kissing, M/M, Male Slash, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pain, Power Play, Powerlessness, Slash, Slashy, Snogging, Violence, Virginity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2012-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-11 13:42:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BipolarMolar/pseuds/BipolarMolar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP.With emotions running high, Brendan Brady and Simon Walker decide on one thing: A Dominance Pact, in an attempt to decide who will top and who will not, when the UST gets too much for them. Read and Review?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dominance Pact

**Title: The Dominance Pact**

**Author: BipolarMolar**

**Summary: With emotions running high, Brendan Brady and Simon Walker decide on one thing: A Dominance Pact, in an attempt to decide who will top and who will not, when the UST gets too much for them. In other words, a fic in which Walker is an arse virgin and Brendan is thorough but amused by the whole thing. By the way, I've made a Twitter account called Bipolar_Molar (yeah.,I know, original, right?) so you can follow that of you like, for updates about fics in the works, or if you want to leave a prompt etc. :)**

**Chapter One: Wow**

" **Don't be surprised I can look you in the eye**

**It's hard to take you serious when you take me inside."**

**Wow by Marilyn Manson.**

How long had they been sitting there, talking? Simon Walker and Brendan Brady had been exchanging words, nothing particularly important, the usual small talk. It was the manner in which they spoke. Every word Brendan said seemed to go straight to Walker's groin. And he'd noticed Brendan staring. At Walker's lips as he spoke. Or the column of his throat where his shirt collar began. Brendan's eyes even strayed to flick over Walker's crotch, the way the denim clung to his narrow hips and thighs. It was bizarre. When people talked about sexual chemistry, Walker had never really believed in it. , moreover, he'd never experienced it. Not with his wife, Alice, not with anyone. But here he was, leaning on the edge of the desk in the cramped little office of Chez Chez, with this silly talk hanging limply in the air, their conversation gradually dwindling as both men ran out of things to say. So why did they remain here? Talking, yet saying nothing? Because of the chemistry. There seemed to be tautness in the air, like there were a million strands of invisible thread attached to every conceivable surface, so every word, every breath and lick of lips was measured, noted and pinged down the strands so the other man could not help but categorise himself.

And then Brendan had to challenge the status quo. Sensing the conversation wasn't over (not wanting it to end), Walker had sat on the desk, his legs hanging over the side, trying to think of what to say next. Brendan was seated in the only chair, his hands were folded neatly in his lap and it was then that he said "You know I'm going to screw you, right?"

Even though Walker's heart began to race, he knew better than to show Brendan Brady he had the element of surprise. True, he acted less surprised than he should have. After all, Brendan had just propositioned him for sex.

"Yeah, because when I woke up this morning, I thought ' _Today's the day I get fucked up the arse by an Irishman_ '. "

"What's wrong with being Irish?" Brendan snapped, glowering at him.

Walker rolled his eyes. "Nothing. But I've never been penetrated before and I don't intend to start now. No matter how…" he crossed his, legs. "Good-looking he is."

"So…you do wanna sleep with me?"

Walker's head snapped up like a dog sensing a threat. "I never _said_ that."

"You said I'm good-looking."

"I don't- I d-"

"Simon." Brendan said very slowly and deliberately. "What made you think you had a choice?"

Walker's gaze flickered to the floor but he didn't move.

"One of us is getting fucked, Simon." Brendan went on.

"We could fight for it, you know…" Walker said, his eyes not leaving their study of the door's framework.

"What exactly would we be fighting for, Simon?"

"Dominance."

Walker could never have foreseen this, let alone thought he was capable of proposing such a thing. He hadn't even expected Brenan to go for it. Fighting a man to decide who'd get to top. He rather thought the stood a good chance of winning- yes, Brendan was stronger, but he, Walker was taller and faster. As if acting on an inaudible cue, both men rose. Walker let his hands drop to his sides, eyes wary but alert. Brendan, with his dark hair and subtly muscular physique, had always seemed guarded, predatory but now he seemed _dangerous_. His eyes narrowed into slits, unreadable and watchful, his fingers curling as if they longed to wrap around Walker's throat, his cock, or hold him down. Walker battled with himself, his pride versus his self-preservation. This was folly. But he would fight.

Confidence and determination always oozed from Brendan- he may well have the endurance to win. So Walker would have to surprise him first. He darted forward, his fingers snapping into a first as his hand sliced through the air but Brendan anticipated this, seizing his wrist tightly. Walker winced, feeling calloused fingers press down on his veins, making him immediately bend at the waist in an effort to tear his hand from Brendan's grip. Brendan took the opportunity that presented itself, spinning Walker around so his back was pressed against Brendan's front. Through the denim of his jeans, he felt the vague sensation of Brendan's erection (hard but trapped by his trousers) against him and that was it- ,the moment where he realised what might happen. His fantasies involving other men had never been that complicated; hard, muscled torsos and feeling a man's stubble graze his jaw as he kissed him was as far as it got. What little he knew of gay sex was- it hurt. He might just end up getting buggered by Brendan Brady and _it would hurt_. With this grim revelation, he threw all his weight on Brendan so that they both crashed to the floor. Now he as in the awkward position of lying on top of Brendan, facing the ceiling, but that could be changed.

He rolled over clumsily so that he was still upon the other man, but facing him. Panting heavily, he let a grin ease its way onto his lips; his hair hanging down in Brendan's scowling face. It just made him laugh harder, as he watched Brendan try to stop Walker's hair from going in his mouth. Walker laughed in the man's face until he was breathless, his hands splayed across Brendan's tanned forearms and his knees between Brendan's legs. The movement brought something else to attention, he felt himself hardening from the stimulus it was getting as his laughter forced his groin to rub against Brendan's. Their eyes met and Walker froze. Their lips were close. So close. Brendan's full lips, above a strong jaw shadowed with stubble brought to mind Walker's old ill-informed fantasies of stubble grazing his own clean-shaven face as lips met. The fantasy man had always been generic, you could say faceless but now he had a name…

"Brendan…I want to kiss you." Walker whispered, certain that allowing the words to ring loudly in the room would somehow shatter the moment.

Brendan smiled, his eyes gleaming from the light hanging over their heads. "So do it."

When that tantalising sentence left Brady's lips, Walker dipped his head, pushing his lips squarely onto Brendan's. Everything seemed to happen at once- his hands found purchase in Brendan's hair, feeling the short strands tickle his fingers, Brendan's mouth opened up for him so Walker's tongue could explore the wet cave thoroughly. Brendan felt so good, smelt so good and as his teeth scraped Walker's tongue, his lips soft but firm under Walker's mouth, Walker forgot their agreement. His moans were swallowed by Brendan's dextrous lips and as Brendan made a similar sound in response, Walker failed to realise that Brendan's kiss was distracting him form the man's plan.

Brendan took the opportunity to flip Walker over, his weight pinning the man to the floor. As his back crashed into the ground, his chest and stomach crushed by Brendan's bodyweight, the kiss broke and Walker gasped.

"You-we-"

"We had an agreement. A pact." Brendan sat on Walker's lap, his legs on either side of the man's waist. It might have seemed like a submissive gesture, but Walker knew, stealing breaths under Brendan's weight, that it was actually the best way to pin a person down while keeping your hands free. Ignoring Walker's shaky breathing, Brendan swiftly unbuckled his own belt, one hand grasping each end. Walker panicked as he saw the long leather strap taut over his head- was Brendan going to hit him with it? Put it round his neck? Brendan did neither, taking advantage of Walker's defensive position (his hands tense, near his face) to loop the leather expertly around Walker's wrists, tying them together. The action had the effect of a sharp, slap in the face; Walker was speechless. His hands twitched impotently, trying in vain to discard the leather bindings. It didn't hurt but it was uncomfortable. Brendan pulled Walker's wrists behind his head by the belt, pushing him down he was lying flat on his back. Now, Walker was lying down, with his hands by his head, Brendan still on top of him. It was clear who the winner was.

Walker's eyes rolled like marbles as he searched for an escape, or something to distract Brendan, _anything_. He could hear Brendan undoing his flies, and the grating growl of the zipper as the metal teeth parted made him struggle more against his bonds. Ironically, his climbing panic had the effect he'd been trying to get mere moments before; Brendan stopped undressing.

"Simon." Walker looked up into Brendan's steady blue gaze as the man knelt over him.

"Get it over with, _Brady_." He snarled, turning his head away so their gaze broke. The smooth coldness of the floor chilled the side of his face, so he jumped when he felt warm lips press insistently on his throat.

"Simon…you say the word and I will stop. Immediately ."

Walker looked up at that. "Really?"

"Yeah. Just say the word, Simon."

"What word?"

"'Stop.' "

Walker considered this; he turned his head so their lips met. "I don't want you to stop…" he whispered.

"Then what's the problem?"

It was very surreal. Walker had lain in bed with Alice, having pillow talk but lying here, on his back with his hands literally tied, and Brendan Brady beside him, he'd never felt more complete, more in touch with another human being.

"It's going to hurt, Brendan. Isn't it? It is, isn't it? I can't- I've never…not with a man…" he knew he was babbling now.

Brendan made a shushing gesture with his finger. "It'll be good, Simon. I promise you that. But you don't feel ready right now, because guess what? There's no magic moment when you feel ready for any big thing in your life. So- let's do it anyway."

" _Any big thing in my life_ , eh? Are you talking about moving house or your cock when you say that?" Walker said weakly, trying to stop his jaw from clenching. "Ok, Brendan. Let's do this."

"Try to relax." Brendan murmured against Walker's throat, his warm breath ghosting on the sensitive flesh. Walker closed his eyes, trying to do as the man instructed, concentrating on the feelings, not…what would come next.

He felt his body being jostled as Brendan began to ruck his T-shirt up, until he'd got the material over Walker's heads, revealing his chest. The belt tied round his hands meant Brendan couldn't remove the article of clothing completely, but Walker found that lying here, with his chest bare and his arms forced back so that he was offering himself to Brendan- well, that was just as good.

Brendan unzipped Walker's jeans, pulling them down his body. Walker brought his legs together, bringing the knees up to make it easier for Brendan. It seemed the Irishman was too lazy to remove Walker's shoes, as he just pulled the trousers and underwear down to Walker's ankles, where they bunched around his trainers.

Brendan stood up, looking down at Walker's body with a hungry gleam in his eye. Walker shifted, the leather sliding against his wrists, a thin band of sweat between his flesh and the leather. He felt utterly helpless, his legs parted in similar fashion to the Lotus mediation position, with his ankles together and his wrists behind his head. It was a completely vulnerable position, exposed, offering his body to Brendan. All the necessary parts of his body were uncovered- his chest, heaving, the nipples hard as pebbles. And his crotch, his cock flushed red and erect, leaking pre-come even as he lay there.

Without taking his eyes off Walker's, Brendan undid his shirt, throwing it off. Walker barely had a chance to admire the firm, muscled torso as Brendan was already stepping into the circle made by Walker's long, bare legs, manipulating his limbs as if Walker were nothing more than a ragdoll- albeit, a very aroused ragdoll. Brendan's face was suddenly very close to Walker's as the Irishman struggled to pull his own trousers to his ankles, trapped with Walker's legs wrapped around him.

The moment Brendan's erection was freed, the evidence of his arousal hard and throbbing, Walker's lips trembled, his eyes wide. There wasn't the time, with this rushed seduction to consider what this meant- he was about to have sex in a completely unfamiliar way. The thought of Brendan, so warm and aroused, on him, and _in_ him, filling and owning him made his cock ache, but he couldn't help but question whether he'd regret this. Brendan didn't seem aware of the darker turn Walker's thoughts were taking- the moment his cock was unclothed, he groaned, burying his face in Walker's neck and rutting openly against his body. Their dicks, damp with pre-come, slid clumsily against each other, making both men moan at the contact. Walker's position didn't allow him a lot of movement, but he arched up as much as he could, needing more friction, needing more of _Brendan_. H was only aware of Brendan's mouth on his neck, the facial hair rough on the sensitive skin of his throat as Brendan pressed kisses on it. Apparently, Brendan couldn't multi-task; he ceased kissing Walker's throat, stopping his rutting in order to fumble in his trouser pocket for a small bottle.

"Brendan…" Walker whispered, not quite sure what he wanted.

"Shhh…" Brendan murmured back, pouring some kind of liquid onto his fingers. "This is going to…" he didn't finish the sentence.

"B-Brendan?" Automatically, Walker tried to sit up, but his tied wrists prevented him from doing so. He reared up as he felt a finger, cold and damp from what he now inferred was lubricant, push between his buttocks, entering him. The sensation was unpleasant and unfamiliar; he tried not to squirm as Brendan flexed the finger inside him. It wasn't the least bit arousing although his cock still ached from Brendan's previous actions. To his surprise, Brendan's finger had barely been in there a few seconds before he added another one, this new intrusion now attempting to open Walker up.

"What's it like?" Brendan's low tone was rough, the Irish accent thicker than normal.

"Not good." Walker answered honestly; wincing a bit as Brendan painstakingly worked him open. The instinct was to move away, cast out the intrusion but of course, he couldn't.

When Brendan answered, he sounded close to laughter. "Not good, eh? Yeah, it'll feel like that at first."

After what felt like a while but probably wasn't even two minutes, Brendan withdrew his fingers, his breathing heavy. "You're ready now, Walker." He said smugly, openly ogling Walker's body.

"Ready?"

"To be _fucked_." Brendan said with relish. Walker's legs were still wrapped loosely around Brendan's waist at the moment, so the angle was ideal. Not for the first time, though, Walker felt uncertain.

"Brendan…I don't know if I'm ready…"

"Tough." Brendan snapped, and that was when he thrust into Walker.

The feeling was intense. Brendan was overwhelming. The smell of him (aftershave and shampoo and sweat and a million other things) was a potent cloud, filling Walker's head with its scent at each inhalation. The sound of Brendan's panting, and the moment he entered Walker, that gasp he gave was all Walker could hear under his own wretched breathing. The sight of Brendan, his eyes closed, his lips quivering in pleasure, his face shining with sweat was just…perfect. Ad even his weight on Walker was good, that solid skin and muscle and warmth pressed against him, chest hair roughly dragging on Walker's skin, and oh, the way Brendan's stomach muscles jumped as he shifted, still inside Walker. So why didn't the feel of Brendan's cock, hard and thick inside him, feel as wonderful as everything else?

That thrust, one buck of Brendan's hips, his dick pushing past the ring of muscle had been painful and sudden. Like being hit with a brick. Then the lingering pain of something so huge and hard and wet inside him, inside a part of his body he barely even considered usually, was enough to make him tense, his body unwilling.

"Simon, C'mon…easy, baby…open up for me-" If the pain hadn't been so bad, he probably would have been surprised at being called "Baby."

"Brendan! Brendan!" He roared, tossing his head back desperately. "Brendan, it HURTS!"

"You're fine, you're alright-"

"Brendan…Brendan…"

And that's all he was saying Brendanbrendanbrendan until it was no longer a curse or even a plea but a meaningless string of letters, not a chant or a mantra, just sounds that perfectly encapsulated every spasm of pain as he tried to go limp. He tried to relax his body, his mind, close his eyes. Staring unseeingly at the blackness of his own closed eyelids, he felt Brendan hitch his restrained legs higher so that the backs of his knees were resting on Brendan's shoulders so that he was almost bent in double. And then there was something else, a movement at his hands and he was vaguely aware of Brendan unfastening the belt at his wrists. When the leather fell harmlessly to the floor, his arms felt numb, _he_ felt numb but at least his body was relaxed. So, he thought blearily, it wouldn't hurt as much when Brendan would take what he wanted. But then Brendan withdrew, and as he thrust in again, in a clumsy lurch, Walker, in his new position with his legs elevated moaned aloud, a park of pleasure igniting deep within him.

"Whatever you just did…" He managed to stutter rout, arching up to try and greedily take more of Brendan's cock inside. He felt more than heard Brendan's low chuckle, and the murmur of "liked that, did you?", his accent as thick as the sentence was lascivious.

"P-please." Walker whimpered, eyes shut. He needed that again, that feeling. Brendan withdrew again, bracing his arms on either side of Walker's body, and when he slammed back into the other man, both men groaned aloud at the connection.

Walker could sense Brendan was holding back, perhaps out of concern for him, not wanting to hurt him. But that wasn't good. He wanted _all_ of him.

"Brendan…" Walker muttered, looking up at Brendan. "Fuck me." He murmured, craning up to plant his lips on Brendan's, prompting Brendan to give him all he had.

Brendan seemed to have a telnet for knowing exactly how to hit that sweet spot, his cock pounding against Walker's prostate in an erratic rhythm until Walker was moaning helplessly, his body being used but it feeling so good…

"Please, Brendan, please, oh God…" he was begging now, moaning uncensored pleas to the other man. Without warning, Brendan grasped hold of Walker's cock, his sweaty palm sliding across the appendage easily. With this additional stimulus, it only took a few strokes for Walker to come, arching into Brendan's hand, Brendan's cock in him buried to the hilt and with a shout of "BRENDAN!", he spent, his cum splattering heavily on both of them as he rode out the orgasm, thrashing in pleasure under Brendan. He knew the man was close to coming, for Brendan tensed, his eyes falling shut as the feelings overtook him. With a final, desperate thrust, Brendan came, his hot seed filling Walker's exhausted body as he cursed and gasped on Walker's skin.

Walker groaned, groggy and disorientated as he came down from the high. The relief was tremendous, the tension that had gripped him now non-existent. Brendan collapsed on him, panting and just as drained as Walker. It dawned on Walker how ridiculous it would be if someone happened upon them, Walker, flat on his back with his trousers around his ankles and his T-shirt valiantly hanging from one wrist. And Brendan, breathing like he'd just run a marathon, lying on Walker, his own trousers tying his ankles together.

As both men tried to calm down, steady their breathing, the blood and air racing through their veins, something occurred to Walker. He held out his hand. After eyeing it suspiciously, Brendan shook it.

"Congratulations. You won, I guess." Walker huffed, trying not to laugh in his dazed state. Brendan laughed, his chest hair rubbing Walker's front as he moved.

"Don't feel too bad about losing, Simon. I think I just wanted it more."

That stopped Walker's laughter instantly. "What's that supposed to mean?" He said flatly.

"Nothing, just… I don't spend a lot of time on my back, Simon. Unless there's someone sitting on my cock or I'm asleep." Brendan's grin was so smug; Simon Walker wanted to hurt him. Instead, he said-

"Well, the pact's not over yet. Best of three?"

 

**Author's Notes: Hope you liked that. Blimey, that was long, a proper marathon Bralker fic.I want to do at least one chapter for this fic after this chapter, because it occurred to me that I may have made Bralker a little one-sided, always assuming Brendan would top. So, in this fic, I'd like BB to get his just desserts. Or shagged, in other words. Any thoughts?**


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